


Family Came First

by misterdenouement (onlythebest)



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Ernest smokes, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, assumptions made in this fic include:, dewey also acts as a hotel manager? guy? sometimes, ernest self-harms, frank and ernest share living quarters, i just wanted to write about frank and ernest Not Hating Each Other For .5 Seconds, op hopes you like this dumpster fire of a wish fulfillment and projection fic, this is the least canon thing in the universe ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 21:13:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15397575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlythebest/pseuds/misterdenouement
Summary: “I thought you had said you were sick.” Ernest jumped slightly at his brother's voice, but quickly masked his surprise with a scoff.“And this doesn't look sick to you?”-frank catches ernest a short time before he makes an extremely rash decision.





	Family Came First

Life was stressful at the Hotel Denouement. Both Frank and Ernest felt this stress near constantly, and they dealt with it in different ways. Frank had always thought his methods of coping were healthier- after all, they weren't those horrible cigarettes. However, when he walked into Ernest’s bedroom, he quickly realized that Ernest’s habits were much worse than he had previously thought. Red lined his wrists, and he was holding a (thankfully still full) bottle of pills in his hands.

“I thought you had said you were sick.” Ernest jumped slightly at his brother's voice, but quickly masked his surprise with a scoff.

“And this doesn't look sick to you?” Ernest's voice was low; weak, but not broken. Frank would have rolled his eyes if the circumstances weren't so serious.

“I think there’s been a miscommunication of context.” With that, Frank made his way across the room and swiftly snatched the bottle from Ernest's hands. His grip was weak, not making any effort to hold on to the medicine.

Ernest's eyes were cast to the ground, unblinking. Neither of them uttered a word for several minutes as a tense silence filled the air. After all, neither of them knew what to say. Frank could feel his heart sinking lower and lower as he began to comprehend the situation. Yes, it was almost the death of an enemy, but it was also almost the death of a brother.

Family came first.

He took a deep breath and spoke.

“How long?”

“What do you mean, how long?” Ernest's voice was slow, dripping with venom. Frank paused before restating his question. 

“How long have you been doing this for?”

Now Ernest paused, before he mumbled, “I don't know.” He looked up at Frank before continuing. “A long time.”

That definitely was not the answer that Frank had wanted to hear, but then again, he hadn’t wanted to find one of his brothers bleeding out in his bedroom either. At a temporary loss for words, he took Ernest’s right hand in his and gently pulled him to a standing position. The two made unwavering eye contact.

“These,” Frank began, presenting the bottle of pills, “Are for headaches. Not whatever your…” he had to take a breath here, his emotions slowly beginning to get the better of him. “...plans were.” 

“Not like you’d have cared either way.” Ernest’s eyes teared up slightly after saying this. So did Frank’s. Instead of replying, Frank simply dragged Ernest into the bathroom the two shared and quickly produced a small first-aid kit. The two remained silent as Frank worked, cleaning off every cut and bandaging Ernest’s arms with great care.

Ernest chuckled dryly. “I thought that you hated me.”

“Don’t try to make me start.”

Frank’s words hung in the air. 

The two were enemies. A firefighter and a fire-starter. On almost every moral principle, they disagreed in some way. However, this wasn’t a question of morality. This wasn’t a question of justice. It was of life and death- and not just that, but life and death of kin. This wasn’t a fiery battlefield, it was a truce. Frank grabbed Ernest’s hand a second time and lead him out of the bathroom. He kept his eyes on him and he picked up the telephone.

“Dewey? You’re going to need to cover for both of us today.”

Family came first.

**Author's Note:**

> i know this fic kinda sucks but i just wanted to write this out, yeah? yeah
> 
> alternate names for this fic include: 
> 
> That fic where ernest does something really stupid and Frank's just like ok man I know I'm supposed to hate you but you're still my brother and I'm not just gonna let you die or something
> 
> ernest is broken and frank isn't showing any emotion but he's scared


End file.
